


Afterparty

by Morteamore



Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Guilty Vasquez, Handcuffs, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Overstimulation, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Snarky Rhys, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27288208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morteamore/pseuds/Morteamore
Summary: Recently demoted to janitorial duties by Hugo Vasquez, Rhys is stuck working the annual Helios Halloween party, where the two run into each other. Feeling slightly guilty about Rhys' predicament, Hugo propositions him, and he surprisingly accepts.
Relationships: Rhys/Hugo Vasquez
Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950712
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Afterparty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinktober prompts: Wax play, sensory deprivation, and sex toys

The Halloween party was in full swing by the time Hugo Vasquez arrived at Helios’ main ballroom. By the space station’s standards, he was fashionably late, which suited him just fine. Punctuality was for _chumps_ , after all. People like himself played by their own rules, showed up when they felt like it. 

Fluffing out his cape, Hugo passed his invitation to the doorman, who scanned it with his device. When Hugo flashed a smile at him, it was all teeth, his fake ceramic fangs glistening. The doorman didn’t even lift an eyebrow as he handed the invitation back. 

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Vasquez,” he said in a deadpan and turned to the next guest.

The cocktail area was draped in orange and black streamers, the tables decorated with matching tablecloths. It was dimly lit and brimming with people. Most hovered by the bar, a pair of bartenders tending to their needs with quick hands and a healthy dose of flair. Their tip jar was stuffed to the top with credit chips and crisp bills already. Hugo joined a small cluster of people there, waving a tailored sleeve to flag down either of the bartenders. When one sauntered over, he ordered what was listed as the special—something called a Jekyll and Gin—and leaned against the bar as he waited.

“Is that you, Hugo?” The voice came from beside him. He looked over to see a balding man in glasses peering over, his face painted with macabre makeup, making his eyes look sunken and his skin ragged. His clothing was torn, splattered with fake blood. “Finally decided to join the party, huh? Nice vampire costume you got there.”

“Jerry,” Vasquez drawled. He kept his expression neutral. “And that’s a nice….” 

“Zombie.”

“Ah. Zombie costume.”

“Thanks. The old ball and chain helped me with the makeup.” Jerry chuckled to himself. “She’s around here somewhere.”

“Is that so?”

“Probably in the main ballroom. Oh, by the way, guess who they’ve got working in there?”

“I assume you’re going to tell me whether I try to guess or not.”

“It’s that loser you had demoted to assistant vice janitor. Rhys. I tell you, that guy’s pretty miserable after what you did to him. He almost bit my head off when I asked him where the bathroom was.”

That seemed to pique Hugo’s interest. The bartender set his drink down in front of him, and he lifted it to his lips, turning his full attention to Jerry.

“You don’t say?” he said once he’d swallowed a mouthful. “I wouldn’t think they’d let him work something as prestigious as this party.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” There was another chuckle from Jerry, who seemed much too amused by the fact. “You did us all a favor sending him off to janitorial. He was too much of an arrogant prick for his own good.”

Hugo’s expression remained unchanged. He looked down at his Jekyll and Gin, peering into its depths as if the swirling gin and ice could reveal the secrets to the universe. “He wasn’t _that_ bad. He was just in my way. I wanted to make a living, breathing example out of him; make sure people knew that there are fates worse than death at Hyperion, and that I could make them happen.”

“I think you got your point across just fine with Henderson. Rhys, though—that seemed like personal beef to me.”

A scowl twisted Hugo’s mouth into a grimace, fangs flashing as his upper lip peeled back from his teeth. Almost fumbling, he downed another mouthful of potent liquor, swallowing hard. “Well, it wasn’t, Jerry. End of discussion.”

Jerry’s hands rose up in front of him in a weak semblance of an I-mean-no-harm gesture. The smile on his face was crooked now. “Alright, alright. Jeez, you’re high strung. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Good. Don’t.” Smoothing down his elegant lapels, Hugo gestured with his drink. “Where’d you see him anyway?”

“Who, Rhys? I thought we weren’t discussing him anymore.”

“We’re not. I’m still curious.”

“Okay.” Jerry snorted and shook his head, but seemed to refrain from saying what was on his mind. “He was cleaning up after those pigs at the buffet, last time I saw. He seemed pissed about it.”

“Thanks.” There was a moment where Hugo pretended to glance at an ornate pocket watch he pulled from his waistcoat. “Well, I think I’m going to go check on how swinging the main event is. You have yourself a good night, Jerry.”

“Of course. Same to you, Vasquez. If I don’t run into you again, try not to end up too hungover in the morning.”

He strode away from the bar, Hugo, without so much as a backwards glance. A tentative sip was taken from his drink as he approached the entryway to the main ballroom. Here, the decorations were spookier, more of the skull, bat, and creature variety than just the appropriately themed solid colors. They hung from the ceiling in a hokey display, the lights turned down, replaced by a blacklight that swathed the dancers swaying and writhing to the DJ in a brilliant glow of colors. In his hand, Hugo’s drink was illuminated bright white by the effect, like some neon sodium potion, deadly to consume. On the tables, black roses were twined together into centerpieces, crooked and wicked looking. 

Hugo had to admit to himself: this place was effective. Only a step or two over the threshold, and he already felt like he was on some phatasmagorical alien planet. He made his way over to the buffet table, his eyes scanning the lines of bodies waiting their turn to pile their plates up with delectables. Sure enough, at the far end of the table, was a familiar lanky figure grumbling over a dustbin and broom. 

“Let me guess,” Vasquez said as he sauntered up to him. “Mummy, right?”

As if jarred from a dream, Rhys looked up, jaw hanging open. He looked himself over, plucking away a piece of toilet paper that had wrapped around his shoe and ankle. In the wake of the action came a scowl.

“Incident in the men’s bathroom,” he said in a clipped tone. “Not that you’d care, considering the reason I’m here in the first place is your doing.”

“Ah, Rhys, come on. That’s water under the bridge.”

“That’s not what that saying means. Not from where I’m standing.”

Someone stumbled and dropped a rather large morsel of bacon wrapped prawn on to the carpet. With a dramatic sigh, Rhys swept it up into his dustbin.

“Look, Rhys,” Vasquez began, his brow creasing as his thoughts warred with each other. He spent the next few moments choosing his words carefully. “For what it’s worth, I did what was in my best interest. That’s all that it was. Nothing more, nothing less. You would’ve done the same in my shoes.”

“Would I now?” Rhys snapped without looking up, finding more crumbs to clean. “So I’d humiliate you, degrade you, then make a mockery out of you? I don’t think you know me at all, Vasquez.”

“On the contrary, I think I know you _too_ well. You didn’t get that management opportunity without doing some of the shit that I’ve done. And let’s not even bring up that mining deal of yours.”

There was a creak as Rhys’ robotic grip tightened on the broom, as if the handle was about to snap. Rhys’ shoulders tensed and he ducked his head. 

It was the sign Hugo needed.

“We’re not all that different, you and I,” he drawled. “Just one of us crossed the finish line in the ole rat race first. And you know for a fact I did a lot less worse to you than some other Hyperion sociopath would’ve done.”

“Tell that to Henderson.” 

“I’d rather not hold a conversation with a dead man, thanks.” Taking a long drink of his cocktail, Hugo set it down on the buffet table, stepping closer to Rhys. “What I _would_ like to do, though, is invite you back to my place after your shift. Discuss some things with you over drinks and all. Surely that isn’t all that much to ask.”

“What, are you crazy?” There was a smoldering glint to Rhys’ gaze when he looked up. “Go home with _you_? You’re delusional.”

There was the sound of Hugo clearing his throat. “I only want to smooth things over between us, wash away the bad blood. If you think my intentions are sinister, you’re sorely mistaken. I could have relieved this space station of your presence whenever I wanted to.”

“Gee, thanks for making me not feel paranoid. Good job.”

Hugo placed a palm down on Rhys’ shoulder. The taller man shrugged it off. “Why don’t you just come home with me and see what I have to say?” Hugo said. “Who knows. Maybe you’ll be able to let all this animosity between us go.”

“I’ll let it go when you let me take my rightful position in this company.”

“No can do, Rhys. At least, not right at this moment. But hey, maybe….” Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Hugo adjusted his cape. He wouldn’t meet Rhys’ gaze. “Maybe I’m feeling a little guilty about how everything went down.”

That made Rhys pause in his sweeping. When the silence between the pair went on for too long, he gestured with his robotic hand, indicating for Hugo to continue.

“Maybe I even want to make it up to you. Have you considered that? That me inviting you back to my place is my way of setting things straight?”

“So, you’re idea of making things right with me, making up for all the shit you’ve put me through, is having sex with me?”

There was an expression on Hugo’s face as if he were trying to not look taken aback. But it was impossible. Rhys had read between the lines all too clearly. Not that Hugo had been trying to keep his intentions on the down low exactly. “No. Well, yes. Yes, that would be what I’m proposing. But not if you don’t want to.”

There was another long bout of silence that stretched on between the pair. Around them, the party exploded with color and sound, making their standoff even more tense and eerie. Finally, Rhys spoke.

“Alright,” he said in a deadpan.

“Beg your pardon?”

“I said alright. Stacy dumped me as soon as I got demoted. It’s been months since I’ve been laid. Better the devil I know than the devil I don’t.”

“I don’t think that saying is supposed to apply to who you sleep with, Rhys.”

“I’m applying it. I think it’s fitting. Hell, I’m surprised that isn’t what you came dressed as tonight.” Rhys looked Hugo over, breaking out in a wobbly smile; his first of the evening. “Though I guess bloodsucking fiend suits you just fine.” 

“Are…are you trying to insult me?”

Rhys raised his flesh hand and placed it on Hugo’s cheek. The other man didn’t flinch when he gave it a few light pats.

“Hey, if you get to demote me, I get to poke fun at you. It’s only fair, right?” Without waiting for an answer, Rhys chuckled humorlessly and continued. “My shift ends when the party’s over. I can meet you at your place afterwards. It might be too much of a faux pas to walk back together.”

It took a moment or two for Hugo to find his voice. When he did, he was careful not to trip over his words, surprise and incredulity running laps around his brain as they chased each other. He managed to nod once, fidgeting with his lapels. 

“That’ll work for me. I’ll probably leave before this shindig is over regardless. Try not to stand me up. Otherwise I’ll _definitely_ find a way to get back at you.”

“I don’t doubt it. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do around here. I wouldn’t want to piss off my supervisor.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you ever have a problem with them, you come to me.”

“Right,” Rhys said and turned away, taking his dustbin and broom with him. He flipped a wave over his shoulder without looking back. “Have fun, Vasquez. I’ll see you later tonight.”

XXX

The table was set with vintage wine and two long-stemmed glasses, candles lit around the apartment for ambiance. Sitting on the couch, Hugo was barely paying attention to the news program that was playing, his hands wringing together in his lap. He’d been home for an hour now and it was well past midnight. Surely Rhys should have shown up by now. Perhaps the other man had been only humoring him, trying to get him off his back. He couldn’t say he blamed him. Not after Hugo had devastated his career. He should have known convincing him to come over had been too easy. Shutting off the holoset, Hugo stood and headed over to the dining room table, prepared to clean up the wine and call it a night.

Suddenly, the doorbell chimed. Hugo froze with his hand on the bottle, as if he was a burglar who’d been caught stealing it in the middle of the night. It wasn’t long before the doorbell chimed again and he sprung into action, releasing the wine so he could answer the door.

“I can’t believe I actually showed up,” Rhys said as the door slid back. He’d taken off his work vest, standing there in just a simple orange and black rugby shirt and slacks. “I must be losing my mind.”

At first, Hugo just stood there, staring at him. Then he stepped aside, sweeping his arm out to invite him in.

“I appreciate you coming,” he told Rhys.

“Technically, I haven’t yet,” Rhys said without humor. “That’s the reason I’m here, right?”

Hugo’s mouth fell open. He rubbed at his beard, watching as Rhys made his way over to the bottle of wine. The other man picked it up off the dining table, examining the label, then set it back down.

“Would you like some?” Hugo asked, coming over with a corkscrew. “I could open it.”

“No thanks. I had to clean up after every last drunk asshole at the party. It’s pretty much ruined alcohol for me tonight.”

“I’d say that blows, but chances are you’re blaming me for that predicament in some roundabout way.”

“You’re the one that put me there in the first place. There’s nothing roundabout about it at all.”

“Fair enough. Do you just…want to retire to the bedroom, then?”

“I’m tired and horny, Vasquez. The sooner I deal with the latter, the faster I can deal with the former.”

“Ah, well, when you put it that way, I’m not all that sure this was a good idea now. I don’t want to feel like some cheap object for your personal gratification.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. You don’t get to do that to me.” Rhys raised his fingers to his forehead briefly, looking as if the weight of the space station was bearing down on his shoulders. “I’m here. We’re doing this. You owe me that much.” 

“Do I?” With the corkscrew, Hugo removed the cork from the wine bottle. He poured himself a generous glass, lifting it to his lips to drink. His gaze watched Rhys over the rim. “I don’t think you’re in any position to declare that I owe you sex. In fact, I’d consider that crossing certain lines between us, since I’m clearly in the position of power here.”

“I’m aware of that.” Shoulders heaving with a sigh, Rhys managed a pout. “Fine, okay. We can do anything you want. How about that? Does that appeal to you?”

Hugo loudly swallowed a mouthful of wine. “Are you being serious?”

The first wry stirrings of a smile came to play over Rhys’ lips. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You could show me into the bedroom and find out.”

It seemed Hugo was considering it. This time when he drank from his glass, he tilted his head back, letting the rest of the wine slide down his throat. The empty glass was set back on the table with a hiss of breath.

“This way,” he said, walking past Rhys.

The other man didn’t hesitate. He turned on his heel, following Hugo through the lavish apartment, admiring the abstract art on the walls and the expensive tchotchkes the man seemed to have simply to impress guests. They walked down a narrow hall, at the end of which there was a room with the door hanging ajar. Rhys admired the glistening, sleek furniture and enormous bed as they entered. The comforter and pillowcases were standard issue, decorated in the same Hyperion logos that he had on his own bed set. 

Vasquez shrugged out of the blazer and waistcoat he was wearing. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt and undid them, revealing the dark hairs dusting his chest and abdomen. When he looked over at Rhys, he saw that the other man was watching him intently.

“How do you feel about being blindfolded?” Hugo asked him.

“I said you could do whatever you wanted.”

“Sure. Just thought I’d run it by you anyway. I don’t need you to loose your cool on me or anything.”

Rhys hummed. “Oh. That’s reasonable. I guess.”

“I should probably go over some things, then.”

“I could appreciate that.”

“Restraints? I mean, just on your wrists.”

“Only wrists? Yeah. Yeah, that’d be okay.”

“Sex toys.”

“I’m not a stranger to those.” A chuckle escaped Rhys, quiet and wary. “What else?” 

“Wax.”

“As in candle wax? I didn’t expect you to be that kinky, Vasquez. And I’m not, eh, really into pain all that much. Or at all.”

A red tinge came to color Hugo’s cheeks that had nothing to do with the wine he’d consumed. He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t really hurt. At least, I hear it doesn’t. Not with the right candles.”

“And you have those candles?”

Hugo nodded once.

“I guess I did say anything you wanted. Just be gentle with me.”

“We can use the color system. For safety.”

“I prefer using safe words. How about…propaganda? That works, I think.”

“Cheeky.”

Hesitating no longer, Rhys reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his smooth, pale chest and the vivid blue ink of his tattoo. Hugo eyed it with admiration, following the intricate linework down Rhys’ arm with his gaze. He stepped closer to the other man, working open his own pants as he closed the distance between them. His palm came to rest on Rhys’ pectoral, smoothing along to his shoulder, then running down the length of his tattooed arm. He moved past Rhys, then, to his dresser, opening up one of the drawers and removing items. Rhys glanced over his shoulder and saw silken cloth, a pair of leather handcuffs, a plastic package with several long candles encased within and a flip-top lighter, lube, and what looked like a buttplug with a small remote control beside it.

“Just try and relax,” Hugo told Rhys, and wrapped the silken cloth around his head, rendering him blind.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t tell me to relax,” Rhys shot back. 

Guiding hands strapped Rhys’ wrists into the cuffs then led him to the bed. With almost ginger touches, Hugo helped him lie back and worked off the rest of his clothing. Rhys stretched out his legs. His hips arched as Hugo’s palm cupped his balls, a soft sound escaping him as it traveled up along his stiffening shaft.

“Hands up here,” Hugo said and lifted Rhys’ bound wrists over his head, letting them rest on a pillow.

“You really expect me to stay like this all night?”

“I could tie them to something?” Hugo suggested.

There was a curt, breathy laugh from Rhys. “Actually, I think I’m good.” 

The bed dipped as Hugo moved off of it. There was the sound of plastic packaging being opened and a thump as the candles inside hit the top of the dresser, Rhys gulping at the noise. The candles were taken up in Hugo’s hands, as well as the lube and buttplug. He set them all down on the mattress except the lube, which he poured a generous amount of on to his fingers. Rhys’ legs were spread, and another pillow was fitted under his hips for a better angle. Rhys hissed, his legs jerking slightly as the lubed fingers pressed tentatively against his entrance, circling it a few times. He almost bit his tongue when one pushed inside, wriggling and flexing to stretch him open. Another finger soon followed, this one welcomed rather than a source of surprise, the sense of fullness relaxing him. It didn’t last long, however. Hugo thrust both fingers into him a few times, slowly, methodically. Then he was slipping them out. The buttplug was picked up next, some lube poured on to its silicone surface. He didn’t warn Rhys before slipping it inside him, working it almost all of the way in. The other man tensed up at the wider intrusion, squirming on the bed even as Hugo pushed it the last few inches. Then he picked up the accompanying remote, turning it to the lowest setting of vibration.

Rhys cried out, heels momentarily digging into the bed. He seemed to calm after the initial burst of power. It was clear the shock of the sensation had gotten to him rather than the actual feel. So Hugo turned up the intensity, moving it to about midway. Rhys’ breathing was audible. His hips rolled of their own accord, his cock jutting out, now fully erect, the head smeared with pre-cum.

Satisfied with the scene before him, Hugo traded the remote for a red candle. He shuffled along the bed, moving to Rhys’ side and lighting the wick once he was comfortable. It flared to life, burning bright white in the dimness of the bedroom, throwing shadows over his face. He let it burn for a few moments, until liquid began to pool beneath the wick. Then he raised it high above Rhys’ chest, pouring it down in a steady stream. The red liquid dribbled along the other man’s sternum, hardening almost immediately on contact, giving it the appearance of coagulated blood. Though his jaw visibly clenched, Rhys didn’t utter a word. 

Hugo hummed. “Was that too hot for you?”

“Not really,” Rhys answered. “It didn’t feel like all that much. Just a flash.”

“I’ll have to remedy that.”

This time Hugo waited until the candle had burned down a bit more, the accumulation of liquid more like a shallow pool than a few droplets. He dripped it on to Rhys again, deciding to aim for a nipple.

It was as if a lightning bolt had shot down Rhys’ spine. His back arched, his breath coming out in a hiss. There was the sound of jangling as he tried to move his bound wrists downward, then thought better of it.

“Shit,” he breathed out. “That’s a lot more intense.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say the safe word.”

“You don’t have to act tough for me, Rhys. Believe it or not, I’d rather you _not_ get hurt.”

“Funny you should say that _after_ ruining my career.” When Hugo didn’t reply, Rhys went on. “I’m okay. I mean it. This isn’t my first time or anything.”

“Oh?” Hugo lifted the candle, moving it in a downward line. It poured along Rhys’ stomach, making an abstract masterpiece out of his skin. He gasped, his muscles going taut. “Indulge me.”

“I meant for the kinky stuff, not the candles. Those are definitely new ground.”

“Still, indulge me.” Blowing out the candle, Hugo dripped whatever excess liquid was left on to Rhys’ collar bone, red mixing with the blue ink of his tattoo. The red candle was set down on the dresser, a black one taken in hand and lit. “You always struck me as someone whose personality came only in shades of vanilla.”

“You should know me better than that, Vasquez.” Rhys snorted. “And no. I’m not telling. A man has to keep some of his trade secrets, well, secret.”

As the black candle burned, Hugo eyed the remote for the buttplug. His thumb swept over the intensity controls, as if he were considering his options. Then he turned it up first one notch, then another. Rhys made a sound like a startled animal, his cock twitching from the intense vibrations. In that moment, Hugo was satisfied that the liquid wax was hot enough now, pouring it out dangerously close to Rhys’ groin. It accumulated like an oil slick, dripping down, down before solidifying. Rhys’ body writhed, as if he would bolt off the bed, and Hugo admired his handiwork with a pleased sound.

“Can I pour some on your cock?” he said, running the fingers of his free hand through Rhys’ hair. The other man leaned in to the touch, apparently enjoying it. “I’ll be careful.”

There was a heartbeat or two where Rhys didn’t answer. “Uh, well—alright,” he said, his voice wavering only a little bit. “I can handle it. I think.”

“You know what to do if you can’t.”

Hugo’s hand pulled away from Rhys’ head, the candle switching palms. Now with his free hand Hugo caressed the meat of Rhys’ thigh, his fingers digging in as he spread the man’s legs even wider. The angle of the buttplug seemed to intensify, and Rhys’ breath hitched. Hugo held the flame high up away from the other man’s sensitive parts, tilting the candle as if in slow motion. Liquid spattered down on to the head of Rhys’ cock, dripping in a glistening streak down his shaft. Waiting till more of the hot wax had accumulated under the flame, Hugo repeated the motion, layering it on until it was a solid mass and Rhys’ cock was pulsing with fervor. He moved to Rhys’ thighs, spattering them with small droplets, the man’s whole body quivering beneath him.

“Fuck,” Rhys finally gasped out and grit his teeth. “That feels—” A curt and shaky laugh emerged from between his lips. “I don’t know how to describe it. But I’m pretty sure I almost just came.”

Hugo’s thumb swathed over the glans of Rhys’ cock, the accumulation of pre-cum there forming gossamer strands when it pulled away. Rhys’ hips jerked at the touch, and he stifled a groan. His thumb traveling along the underside of Rhys’ shaft, dampening the sensitive and velvety flesh, Hugo watched the other man struggle to keep his composure as he snuffed out the candle with a purse of his lips. This one was set on the dresser as well. With his other hand, Hugo sought out the butt plug, removing it from where it was so snug inside Rhys’ ass. The vibration was turned off, the pair set aside. There was the sound of Hugo’s zipper being tugged down. He reached inside his pants, extracting the erection that had been straining against the material and giving it a few strokes. The mattress shifted as he situated himself between Rhys’ legs, wasting no time in guiding himself to the other man’s entrance. When he plunged his cock into Rhys, it was nearly all the way, the two of them moaning in unison. 

Hugo’s hips moved, and he soon found a rhythm. Slowly he drew out, only to slam back inside, his pelvis colliding with Rhys’ ass, jarring them both. He did it again, and another time. Bound together, Rhys’ hands flexed and jerked against the restraints, reaching for something imaginary. The breathless sounds that came from him only ignited Hugo’s lusts more, made his pace faster. The sound of flesh impacting flesh filled the air. Hugo held Rhys by the hips, keeping him from bucking, his grip tightening with each stroke.

Not wanting to neglect Rhys’ needs, Hugo let go of one of his hips. His palm found the other man’s cock, the melted wax that had accumulated upon it both supple and bumpy at the same time. He wrapped his fist tightly around, his strokes slow, deliberate. When he reached the head, he gave it a squeeze. The noises coming from Rhys became near sobs, every stroke of his cock, every plunge of Hugo’s hips driving the sounds forth from him, his balls pulling tight to his body. Hugo leaned in, biting the shell of his ear.

“Are you going to cum for me soon, Rhys?” he whispered.

Rhys swallowed down a whimper. “Y—yeah.”

“Good boy.”

That seemed to set Rhys off. He made a strangled noise, his whole body trembling, his cock erupting in Hugo’s hand. Warm semen dribbled down to coat Hugo’s fingers and mingle with the wax. Still, more kept coming, Rhys like an endless well of the stuff, his orgasm lingering in the stiffness of his muscles and the buzzing in his ears. His body clenched down on the shaft invading his ass. Hugo let out a deep, guttural moan as he continued to pump at the other man. Like a fish caught on a hook, Rhys twisted and shifted, showing telltale signs of over-stimulation. Finally, Hugo thrust one last time. Hard, his hips stuttering. Then he was pulling out, jerking himself quickly to orgasm. His pleasured cries accompanied the spillage of his seed, which mingled with the red and black wax that clung like a second skin to Rhys’ chest and stomach. Hugo’s breath came in pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he milked himself of every last drop.

For awhile, the two of them stayed glued to their spots, catching their collective breath. When the silence was broken, it was Rhys who spoke first.

“So, uh…you think you could get these cuffs off me now?” 

“Oh, right,” Hugo said as if he were coming out of a daze. “Sure thing. Let me just….”

With the cuffs removed, Rhys rubbed at his wrists, trying to regain circulation. He pulled the blindfold up and off of his eyes, tossing it down beside him as he surveyed his own body.

“Damn, you really made a mess of me,” he observed. “I knew I shouldn’t have probably said _anything_ you want. Is this wax even going to come off with soap? I’m going to need to soak in the fucking bath.”

Not able to help himself, Hugo smirked at the messy canvas of wax and semen that Rhys had become. He lowered himself to the bed, stretching out beside the other man.

“I rather like you with this look.”

Rhys shot him a glare. “You would.”

“But I understand how…inconvenient it might be. You probably don’t want to spend the night. Luckily I have a luxury bathtub.”

“Again, you would.” Closing his eyes, Rhys took a deep breath, seemed to hold it in before letting it out slowly. “It’s a long way back to my apartment. I’m tired and my body is sore as hell now. I _guess_ I could be convinced to stay. That is, if you buy me breakfast.”

“Can do,” Hugo said with too much zeal. “I know this breakfast place, makes the most perfect w affles. They deliver, so we don’t even have to get out of bed.”

“I wouldn’t mind waffles in bed. With bananas and chocolate sauce. Maybe some bacon.”

“That didn’t take much convincing, you know.”

“I’m letting you buy me breakfast, Vasquez, not _forgiving_ you.”

“I hate to be that guy, but I’m going to point out that you also let me fuck you. Among other things.”

“Actually, now that I think about it, I probably should head home. I need to feed my plant and rescue the cat from boredom.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that.” Hugo’s smooth palm found the hollow of Rhys’ throat. The other man didn’t protest as he stroked it, his movements soothing, gentle. “It won’t kill you to stay. You can leave right after breakfast. Maybe we can even get another round in before that.”

Where he lay on the bed, Rhys stayed quiet. When the silence dragged on for too long, Hugo shifted his hand upward, cupping his face. Again, Rhys didn’t protest. He let out a slow breath, letting Hugo turn his head sideways so that their gazes locked. 

“I have an idea,” Rhys finally said. His words were slow and even, as if he had barely any energy left to speak. “You obviously want stuff out of me, right? Sex being the predominant thing.”

“Well, yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t be lying in this bed with you right now. There are other things, though.”

“Like what? It’s not like we’re friends, Vasquez.”

“True, we’re not. But we could be acquaintances. If you just got over that situation with the demotion and stopped holding a grudge, you’d realize I’m not so bad of a guy.”

“Yeah, see, here’s the thing about that.” With a shake of his head, Rhys nudged Hugo’s hand off of him. He sat up a bit straighter, bracing himself with his cybernetic elbow. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to that way of thinking if I was back in the data mining department.”

Hugo couldn’t help himself. He chuckled, the sound deep. When he saw the look on Rhys’ face, however, the laughter died in his throat. “You’re serious about this? Rhys, it’s not that easy. I’d have to shuffle some people around, monitor individual productivity, look over some reports. It’s a lot more complicated than just handing you working orders.”

“But the fact still remains you could make it happen.” Rhys’ voice sounded matter-of-fact. “If you _really_ wanted to.”

“Of course….”

“Then that’s my proposal. You obviously enjoyed your time with me. You want it to, well, happen again. You said so yourself. And, the thing is, I’m not entirely opposed to it. So, say, if you maybe thought about giving me another shot at that promotion I was supposed to get, then I might just decide to be more forgiving about things.”

No words escaped Hugo. Not at first. His jaw worked, hand coming up to rub at his beard. He looked to be in a state of deep thought. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re stubborn, Rhys, I’ll give you that. But I can admire obstinance in a man.”

“That’s a start, I guess.”

“We’ll do things your way, then.” Hugo leaned in closer, smirking. “With a little tweaking. We discuss your reinstatement back into data mining tomorrow over breakfast, with plans for a promotion as soon as I can arrange it. In exchange, this little tryst between you and me, it becomes a regular thing. This way we both get something we want.”

“That’s not the way this is supposed to work.” There was a twitch to Rhys’ lips, as if he were fighting back a grin. “But alright. Proposition accepted. If only because it’ll get my old job back, and you’re not _that_ bad of a lay. At least things are interesting with you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. Now, you still want that bath? I can show you how to use the tub.”

“Nah, I think it can wait. Why bother getting clean when I’ll just get messy again in the morning?”

“Is that a promise?” Hugo’s eyelids slid to half-mast, an eager light blossoming in his pupils. 

Rhys just settled back against the pillows and closed his eyes, mouth stretching in a yawn. At last he allowed a smile to creep over his features. “I’m tired, Vasquez. Guess you’ll have to wait until the morning and see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Blown-Ego made a wonderful illustration to go with this fic. It can be viewed [here](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ElnI7QpWMAARz6H?format=jpg&name=large) (NSFW)
> 
> Most of the musical inspiration came from **The Midnight's** album _Monsters_. Some of the weirder influences that crept in were **King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard's** album _Chunky Shrapnel_. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MorteAmore)


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